— Vuong Vu
The road is long this winter’s night,
I am walking home, my path through dew.
Along the road, the fields are covered in frost,
And trees stand white as statues,
And in the cold hour, I recall that one winter
From my childhood, the coldest year,
When the pipes froze and pools of water
Became icy plates like glass tabletops,
And for the first time in my life, it snowed,
Like bits of paper, like down feathers falling
From the sky. I remember waking that morning
To a world gone white, the rooftops
and far fields and my mother’s garden,
where flowers were still in bloom,
all covered in snow! Oh, I recall the winter’s magic!
Oh, the simple joys of childhood—
a snowy morning, a fire, a warm home–
Oh, the simple joys that carry me home
this cold and lonely winter’s night.